


Withdrawal

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Series: It's Only Natural (On a Hiding to Nothing) Series [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Twincest, past forced miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 13:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18621163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Y/n Winchester takes her leave and goes to Maine to heal after a hefty loss. But when Chuck decides to step up and reveal himself, she finds herself right back in the middle of the Apocalypse.~~~~~~~~My boy, John, disappeared on me, too. He had three kids. A set of fraternal twins and another boy. Tragic, tragic story. Their ma passed when the twins were four, Johnny just couldn’t stand bein’ in that town. He moved around so much I lost track of ‘em. Haven’t heard from him since… 1995.”“Twenty years, huh?" You felt a little guilty. Your dad never mentioned his mom and for most of your life, you had assumed she was just as dead as your mom. It wasn’t until after Grandpa popped up that you realized that John Winchester never told you how she died, or that she had died. Your brothers told you to let it go, especially after Henry died, but you put your research prowess to good use to find her. Mildred Winchester, living in Rangeley, Maine since 1981. Owner and proprietor of The Rangeley Lakeview Bed and Breakfast since 1991. A fine, upstanding member of Rangeley society and a fixture at the Church of the Good Shepherd. Apparently, an active and intelligent woman of eighty-five years.





	Withdrawal

**Story Warnings:**  angst, depression, mentions of forced miscarriage (through violence), angst and more angst

* * *

Jody answered the door in her pyjamas, with two coffee mugs in her hands. “Coffee?”

You smiled and took the mugs she offered as you stepped inside. “You were expecting me.”

“Yup. Sam called. Hope you didn’t park that truck you stole in Hastings in front of my house. I do gotta be sheriff, here.”

“Not my first rodeo, Jody. How long ago did Sam call?”

“Two hours. You wanna talk about it?”

“Nah. I just wanted to let you know not to worry before Sam asked you to check on Jane Does again.” You leaned against the wall next to the door and took a drink of the coffee.

“So, time for another South Beach vacay?”

You shook your head. “They know to look for me there, so I can’t go back.”

“Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t press, y/n, but these things don’t get better in silence and, I’ll tell ya… whatever happened, you and your brothers can get over it… together.”

“Do you ever get over the loss of a child?” you asked, more to your coffee than your friend.

“What?” You looked up to see her face filled in with pity and pain, hazel eyes quickly watering. “What’d you say?”

You sniffled and shook your head. “You know what? Never mind. It’s a completely different situation and not even the straw that made me run. I’d appreciate it if this stayed between us. Thanks.” You set the coffee on the side table next to the couch and cleared your throat. “When Sam shows up, tell him to stop looking for me. He needs to focus on the Darkness and, let’s be honest, I ain’t gonna be found.”

“Y/n…”

“Thanks for the coffee. Don’t worry about me.” You wrapped your arms around her and squeezed. “You take care of my brothers, okay? And those girls, ‘cause they need you.”

“Yeah, but…”

You pulled back and smiled at her. “Don’t worry. It’s all good.” You were gone before she had a chance to respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bed and breakfast was small, listed as only having six bedrooms, and you could tell that it was once a beautiful home, even though it was in disrepair in some areas now. The white-haired woman behind the check-in desk smiled brightly when you walked in. “Welcome to Rangeley Lakeview,” she said, happily.

“Thank you. Uh, I booked online. It’s, uh, Megan Maxwell,” you said, dropping your duffel bag and pulling out your stolen credit card.

“Well, we’re happy to have you here, Miss Maxwell! It is ‘Miss’, right?”

“Yeah, uh, not married,” you answered, handing over the card.

“There’s nothin’ wrong with that, sweetie. I made the mistake and got married and my husband disappeared on me. Haven’t needed, or  _wanted_ , a man since 1958.”

“Disappeared on you, huh?” you asked, biting the inside of your bottom lip.

“Yup. Went out for his Lodge meetin’ and never came home. Figure he ran off with that pretty ginger Josie Sands ‘cause she disappeared at the same time. Fuck ‘em. Hope they hated each other.” You laughed at her words. “Only man I need is Chester. He’s our bellman. Let me call him to get your bag.”

“Not necessary, ma’am. I’m a big girl. I can carry my own bag.”

“No need for ‘ma’am’, missy. You can call me ‘Gramma Millie’, everybody in Rangeley does.” She handed the card back and turned to grab a key from the board behind her. “Well, pick up that bag and I’ll show you to your room, hun.”

You picked up your duffel and followed her to the staircase. “ _Are_ you a grandma?”

“What’s that?”

“You said your husband ran out on you. So, are you a-”

“Oh, yeah! I might be a  _great_ grandma, by now! Not that I’d know if I were. My boy, John, disappeared on me, too.” She stopped on the landing at the top of the stairs. “He had three kids. A set of fraternal twins and then another boy. For the life of me, I can’t remember their names… I think their mother named them after people in her family. They all passed when she was young. Tragic, tragic story.  _She_ passed when the twins were four and after that, Johnny just couldn’t stand bein’ in that town without her. He moved those kids around so much that I lost track of ‘em. Eventually I stopped getting postcards and the calls on my birthday. Haven’t heard from him since… 1995.”

“Twenty years, huh?” You felt a little guilty. Your dad never mentioned his mom and for most of your life, you had assumed she was just as dead as  _your_ mom. It wasn’t until after Grandpa Henry popped up that you realized that John Winchester never told you how she died, or  _that_  she had died. Your brothers told you to let it go, especially after Henry died, but you put your research prowess to good use to find her. Mildred Winchester, living in Rangeley, Maine since 1981. Owner and proprietor of The Rangeley Lakeview Bed and Breakfast since 1991. A fine, upstanding member of Rangeley society and a fixture at the Church of the Good Shepherd. Apparently, an active and intelligent woman of eighty-five years.

“Yep. I hope they’re doin’ all right. All that time on the road might’a messed ‘em up. Johnny swore up and down that he was taking good care of those kids, but I bet ya money those twins ended up takin’ care of that baby boy when they were only babies themselves.”

“You’re a smart lady, Grandma Millie.”

“Damn straight. If I weren’t smart after all these years, then I wasted my damn time here.” You smiled and laughed lightly as she unlocked your door and handed you the key. “I’m down in the master suite. You knock on that door for  _anything_ , sweetie. Breakfast is at 8:30. Used to be at 7, but who wants to wake up that early, right?”

“Right.” You stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, dropping the bag on the bed and pulling out your phone. Three new voicemails, all from Sam.

_“Come on, y/n. Pick up the phone. I know you’re hurting but you can’t just leave again. With Amara on the loose, we need you here. **I** need you here_,” the first message said.

“ _Jody told me to stop looking for you_ ,” the second message started. “ _But I can’t do that, y/n. You don’t need to be alone right now. Especially after… what you said in the letter… I didn’t tell Dean. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t have to know until you’re ready to talk about it, but… you shouldn’t deal with that by yourself. That loss… I know you said it was a silver lining, but I think you’re lying to yourself. You should come home. We can get through this together._ ”

“ _Look, we’re gonna get through this. I’m not giving up on you. I’m not going to stop looking just because you told me to. I’m going to find you.” “ **Leave her alone, Sam. She’ll come back when she’s ready.**_ ” A sigh went through the phone, obviously in response to Dean’s words. “ _We love you and we’re right here for you. Whenever you’re ready, we’re here._ ”

You turned the phone off and flopped down on the bed. Sam was trying but he wouldn’t find you. There was no way he would think to look at Grandma’s B and B when he didn’t know that Grandma was even still alive.

~~~~~~~

The next few days were spent exploring your grandma’s hometown. She’d picked a quaint little place to settle. It was beautiful, peaceful, like a coastal version of Lebanon. “Now, I don’t know if you believe or not, but Pastor David over at the Good Shepherd is a fine man of the anglican tradition and he can preach a sermon that’ll set your pants aflame,” Grandma Millie said as she set a plate of biscuits and gravy in front of you Sunday morning.

“I don’t  _believe_. I know. There’s a difference,” you responded, cutting your fork through a biscuit. There was something intriguing and nostalgic in an ‘I never got to have this’ way about the thought of going to church with your grandmother. “I’ll go, though. I haven’t been to a service in years.”

As you walked back into the B&B from church, you tripped on the corner of the carpet, which was peeling up from the nailboard. You bent down, slipping your pump off of your foot and using the heel to hammer the carpet back in place. “Oh, thank you for that, hon. Used to have a handyman, but it got to be too expensive.”

You smiled as you stood and slipped your shoe back on. “I mean, I could-”

“No, no, no. You’re a paying guest, Megan. I couldn’t possibly ask-”

You chuckled. “Why don’t you give me a discount on the room and I’ll help fix this place up?”

She put her hand on her hip and turned to look up at you. “How long are you plannin’ to stay in Rangeley, missy?”

“I don’t know. ‘Til I get a sign it’s time to move on.”

She smiled and reached out to pat your shoulder. “How would you like a job? You could stay here, free of charge. Room and board and you help me make this place pretty for those booking websites. What do you say?”

“That sounds wonderful, Gramma Millie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life with Grandma Millie was healthy. She was sweet and smart and loved you almost as if she knew who you really were. It was ‘family’ in a way you never felt before, definitely not ‘family’ how Dean had made you see it. A few projects and coats of paint and you had the Lakeview packed with people.

Sam kept calling and leaving voicemails, sending emails, threatening to send Cas to find you because the world was ending, Amara was eating souls, the apocalypse was nigh again, but in Rangeley, it didn’t seem like the end of the world. In Gramma Millie’s realm of influence, everything seemed just fine. Even when Sam sent the email saying Castiel had said ‘yes’ and let Lucifer out of the Cage, you couldn’t get past the sedative feeling enough to worry on it.

“There’s a young man down at the church who’s been eying you. Think he’s gonna ask you to the Valentine’s Day Festival,” Millie said, as you sat down in the rocking chair next to hers on the porch.

“I’m sure you’re wrong. Half the parish thinks I’m a lesbian.”

“And the other half wants to make sure you’re not, hands-on, if you get my meaning.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, gramma, I get your meaning.” You shook your head. “Yeah, I don’t think… I don’t think I’m ready for all that.”

“Well, ya ain’t getting any younger. When you get ready, it might be too late. You may never have a chance to be a mother.” You swallowed and looked down. A block of wood entered your vision. “Whittle something.” You nodded and took the block, pulling out your pocket knife and starting to shave bits of the wood off with the blade. “You lost a baby, didn’t you?” she asked, quietly. “It’s why you’re here, all alone.”

“I’m not alone, Gramma Millie. I’ve got you.”

She hummed and focused on the whistle she was creating. “Dodging a question is the same as answering it, missy.” There was a moment of silence where you just kept your eyes on your knives. “I’ll tell the boys at the church to wait for you. You’ll approach them when you’re ready for one of ‘em.”

“Thanks.”

Things with Gramma Millie were healthy and, more than that,  _healing_. The world might be falling apart everywhere else, but in the little bed and breakfast you called home, it was good. Life was good and you were almost happy.

You were standing on a ladder, pulling leaves and gunk out of the gutters when everything shifted and you were suddenly standing in the War Room of the Bunker. The leaves in your hand fell to the floor as you looked at your brothers and… Chuck? “What the actual fuck?”

“There she is! Family’s all back together, now we can get to work,” Chuck said, clasping his hands together.

“Wha-?” Your eyes were wide as you looked from the bearded prophet to your brothers. Dean’s eyes caught yours, then immediately dropped to the leaves on the floor. “What the fuck happened?”

Sam scoffed, an overwhelmed look on his face. “Uh, a-apparently Chuck is… is God.”

“Chuck is  _God_?!” you exclaimed, turning to the man, who gave a little nod and a smirk. “Since when?”

“Oh, always,” Chuck answered. You shook your head, the overwhelmed feeling you saw on Sam’s face taking over you, too. “Look, you’ve missed a lot while you were in Maine, so-”

“Maine?” Dean exclaimed. “What the hell were you doing in Maine?”

You bristled at Dean’s demanding tone, ready to tell him that it wasn’t any of his fucking business where you were or why, but you didn’t have a chance. “She’s been spending time with your Grandma Millie, being reminded what family really is,” Chuck responded for you. “Millie was good for her, brought her back to  _me_. She’s been praying again and everything.”

“Dad’s mom? She’s alive?” Sam asked.

“You didn’t wanna know so I never told you. She’s amazing, by the way.”

“She runs a bed and breakfast in Rangeley. Can we move on now, please?” Chuck asked, a bit impatiently as he sat on one of the tall stool by the graphing table. Dean sat next to the stairs up to the library and you and Sam both settled into the rolling chairs from the map table.

Sam took a deep breath. “Okay. So, wow, um, Chuck.” He chuckled, lightly. “Well, I guess we don’t call you that, huh?”

“I prefer it.”

“Okay, uh, ‘Chuck’ it is.” Sam sighed, looking to you and your twin, both of who were staring at the bearded man on the stool. “I’m sorry. You’re gonna have to, uh, give us a moment to start to process. We didn’t even know you were around. I mean, we knew about Chuck, but we just didn’t know about…  _Chuck_.” Sam gestured almost manically as he spoke and Chuck nodded in understanding.

“I mean, I-I-I was hoping you were around. I’m sure y/n was, too. I mean, w-we prayed and I- but I don’t know if they got, uh, lost in the spam or it-”

“Sam?” Dean cut through the rambling and you stiffened at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah?”

“Babbling.”

“Okay.” Sam cut himself off with a nod as Chuck smiled slightly, looking at your twin.

“I’m getting that not everyone’s totally on board.”

Dean’s eyes snapped to Chuck and he licked his lips, swallowing down something heavy in his chest before beginning to speak. He picked at his thumbnails as he avoided looking at Chuck or you for too long. “Here’s the thing, um… Chuck… and I mean no disrespect. Um… I’m guessing you came back to help with the Darkness, and that’s great. That’s, you know- It’s fantastic. Um, but you’ve been gone a-a… long,  _long_ time. And there’s so much crap that has gone down on the Earth for thousands of years. I mean, plagues and wars, slaughters. And you were, I don’t know, writing books. Going to fan conventions. Were you even aware, o-or did you just tune it out?”

You wouldn’t look at Dean, but you could hear the tears in his voice. You shook your head. It wasn’t fair of him to make you hurt for him.

“I was aware, Dean.”

“But you did nothing,” Dean snapped. “And, again, I-I’m not tryin’ to piss you off. You know, I don’t wanna turn into a pillar of salt.”

“I, actually… I didn’t do that.”

“Okay. People- people pray to you. People build churches for you. They fight wars in your name, and you did nothing.”

Sam reached over and took your hand in his as your twin’s words caused your eyes to tear up.

Chuck nodded. “You’re frustrated. I get it. Believe me, I was hands-on, real hands-on for… wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created… would grow up. But it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being over-involved is no longer parenting.” Chuck sighed. “It’s enabling.”

“But it didn’t get better,” Dean argued.

“Well, I’ve been mulling it over… and from where I sit, I think it has.”

“Well, from where I sit, it feels like you left us and you’re trying to justify it.”

“I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don’t confuse me with your dad.”

“ _Don’t_.” The word slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it. Sam squeezed your hand as every eye in the room shot to your face. “This isn’t about our dad, Chuck.” Chuck’s eyebrows raised just slightly and you took a deep breath. “You have been ignoring so much bad, so much pain and heartbreak and… there’s… loss and…” Tears overwhelmed your vision and you had to close your eyes as Sam pulled you close to him and wrapped an arm around you.

“I am so sorry, y/n. Most of that loss, most of  _your_ loss, was completely unavoidable. It had to happen.”

“‘Had to happen’?” You pulled back from Sam to look at Chuck, at  _God_ , who really just said your loss was required. “You… ‘had to-’… I need a drink.” You stood and strode across the War Room to the crystal decanter and poured yourself a tumbler of whiskey.

“You don’t need to do that. You haven’t had a drink in almost a year, y/n-” Chuck said, standing and pulling his jacket off.

“Don’t fuckin’ judge my drinking, Chuck. Mr. ‘Drink-Away-the-Visions-I’m-Giving- _Myself_ ’.” Your hands shook as you took a drink. It burned your throat but you relished the feeling. It meant you were awake and this was real. Sam was suddenly at your side, one hand on your lower back and the other on your shoulder. You took a deep breath and sighed, turning to give Sam a tight smile. “I’m okay. I’ll be all right.”

“Sure?”

You nodded and took another drink. “Fine.” Sam’s hand lingered on your lower back for a moments before you turned around headed back to the Map Table. “Okay. I’m good. I got this.”

The four of you took your coats off and draped them on the extra chair before sitting at the Map Table. Chuck sighed and leaned his arms against the table. “You have to understand this about the Darkness- she’s relentless, a force beyond human comprehension. It’s the only reason I came off the sidelines.”

“Must’ve been great being her brother, huh?” Sam said.

“It was the worst. Always tellin’ me what to do, making me do what she wanted. I mean, you guys know how that works.” You and Sam exchanged a look at the absurdity that God’s sibling relationship somehow mirrored a normal one.

“So, where is she?” Dean asked.

“No freakin’ idea, guys. She’s warded herself specifically against me. What have you come up with?”

“Zip. And we’ve been at it for months,” Dean responded.

Chuck nodded. “Well… matter of time. I’ve always had faith in you…” Chuck looked over at Sam, before turning to Dean. “…even if you didn’t return the favor. Where’s the guest room? I could use a shower.”

“It’s just down the hallway. The fourth door on the left,” you said, pointing at the hallway as Chuck stood, clicking his tongue and tapping the table. He patted Dean’s back as he headed for the hallway.

“Hey, Chuck. You know that she’s got Lucifer, right?” Dean asked, twisting in his swivel chair.

Chuck stiffened. “Uh-huh.”

“The way we heard it, um… last time you bottled up the Darkness, it-it took more than just you. I mean, we heard that Lucifer was involved,” Sam said.

“No,” Chuck said, pointedly.

“No?” you and Dean asked at the same time.

Chuck turned. “Lucifer was perhaps my greatest hope and my bitterest disappointment. Do you think, if I could have trusted him for a moment, I would have put him in the Cage? And I wasn’t gonna mention this, but thank you so much for springing him.”

“Which time?” you muttered.

“That wasn’t really the plan, um…” Sam quietly defended.

“Now, as bad as he was, after all this time in prison, he’s probably worse,” Chuck shouted. “And by now, he could have formed an alliance with Amara. Not walking into that trap, guys. So, no.” He turned back around and sighed, slightly. “Thus spake the Lord.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

You waited until you couldn’t hear the shower running, then knocked lightly on the door of the room Chuck was using. “Come in, y/n.”

You bit your lip and swung the door open into the room, stepping inside and leaning against the dresser. “I-I wanted to apologize for my outburst earlier. I-” You looked at him, smiling a bit at him wearing Dean’s ‘dead-guy robe’.

“It was my fault. Wording it like that, ‘had to happen’, that was bad. I’m-I’m much better with the  _written_ word. Not so good with the talking. There’s a reason I always sent Gabriel to do my pronouncements. He’s way better with the talking.”

“Yeah, Gabe was… wordy.” You swallowed. “So… did it have to die because it was gonna come out… wrong?”

Chuck shook his head. “No. Those defects usually only happen after  _generations_ of inbreeding. You and Dean made a genetically perfect specimen of humanity. It just had to go because you both would’ve died in childbirth if it didn’t.”

“ _What_? That’s still a thing? A-and why?”

He took a deep breath. “Yes. It’s still a thing. Usually preeclampsia, but  _you_ , you have a tilted pelvis. It’s why you had all those back problems as a kid. John really should’ve had you checked for scoliosis. Anyway, tilted pelvis means smaller birth canal. He was going to get stuck. You were gonna bleed out, he was going to suffocate. I figured it was better to write out the baby than the both of you.”

You ran your hand up to the back of your neck and rubbed harshly at the muscle. “And, no, you’re not going to Hell for helping Dean with the Mark. Incest isn’t a sin.”

“Really?” you squeaked.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, there was a  _lot_ of family boning happening back when Earth first started up. I mean, I made Adam from bits of leftover Eve and they boned. Slept with their kids, too. It’s actually deeply programmed but it only manifests under set circumstances these days. What you and your brothers feel for each other is a direct product of your raising, which was not quite ‘ _Flowers in the Attic_ ’ levels of isolation, but close.”

You blinked at him a few times as information processed. ‘Eve was first?’ took a backseat to “ _Brothers_?”

“Oh, right. You and Sam are still in denial, even after that kiss. Not just a river in Egypt, is it?”

“I’m confused.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, dismissively. “Anyway, the birth defects from genetic breakdown is why it’s a taboo, now. Population grew, new genetics introduced, you didn’t have to have sex with your siblings and cousins anymore so… people stopped doing it.”

“Did you make more people, then? More than just Eve and Adam?”

“No. i set them loose and they went at it like rabbits.”

“Then, how’d you avoid the birth defects? Shouldn’t we all be hemophiliac idiots at this point?”

“I had a host of angels whose only job, starting with Cain and Abel, was to go in and fudge the genetics enough to create new bloodlines and adaptations until the tribes spread out and it started to happen naturally. I think they got folded into Biologicals after that,” he mused.

You licked your lips and sighed. “This is so weird.”

“I know. I never expected to have to reveal myself to you guys. I mean, if I had the choice, I’d still be bumming around Europe. Backpacking is so fun.” You shook your head at the image of God backpacking through Europe. “You know… everything Dean told you… about how he felt? It was true.”

You rolled your eyes. “Does it really matter, Chuck? He can barely look at me, now, so how much he loved me when he forced himself on me that first time, doesn’t matter. It’s all just one dark spot on our souls after another and when the smoke clears, I’ll still be the woman who’s never been held like she was by her twin and he’ll still be the one who… made out with God’s sister. Can’t compete with that.”

“I wish I could make this better for you.”

You shrugged. “It’s not your job… and you know… Gramma Millie went the majority of her life without a man so I’m sure I’ll deal with it.” You pushed off from the dresser and stopped with your hand on the doorknob. “Weird as it is, I’m glad you’re here, Chuck.”

Chuck smiled, blue eyes sparkling. “I believe you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking into the kitchen the next morning and seeing Dean at the coffee maker was a moment of painful nostalgia. He looked up and caught your eyes and you dropped them to the floor as you shuffled to the fridge for a cold bottle of water.

“You ever gonna talk to me again, sis?”

“Oh, do I exist again?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you responded immediately. “Never mind.”

“Meant something or you wouldn’t’ve said it.”

You scoffed angrily. “Do you even know why I left? Did you care I was fuckin’ gone?”

“Of course, I cared.”

“But not like you should’ve cared. Not like a lover would. Because I’m not  _her_. It’s real fucked up how you broke me down, turned me into this codependent mess who  _aches_ for you and loves you in exactly the wrong way, and when I finally embrace it, when I bow to my conditioning, you turn it off and shut it down.”

“It’s not like I did it on  _purpose_!” he exploded. “The Mark came off and I met Amara and I just… I couldn’t. Any lust or non-familial love I had… it… shifted and that’s not my fault.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “No, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have stayed to help you with the Mark after you raped me the second time. Remember? When you slammed me into the wall for having the audacity to let other men touch what was ‘yours’, and then you threw me to the floor on the landing? Remember that?” He looked down, shame shining in his eyes. You scoffed and took a drink of your water. “Isn’t it so much better when we’re  _talking_ , bro?”

You pushed past him and headed back toward your bedroom. “I’m sorry.” His words stopped you in the hallway and you turned to look at him as he stepped into the kitchen doorway. “I’m so sorry… for everything.”

You nodded, pain filling your chest. “Yeah. ‘cause that makes it all better, doesn’t it?”

He looked down, shaking his head. “I can’t make it better.”

“Then, what’s the point of ‘sorry’?” You looked away and started down the hallway.

“I  _do_ still love you, y/n.”

“No. You don’t… and you don’t  _have_ to.” You turned the corner into the War Room and ignored the sound of Dean’s fist connecting with the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How are you doing?” Sam’s voice was that comforting, even tone.

You resisted the urge to scoff and sighed, instead. “You ever gonna get tired of asking that, Sammy?”

Sam smiled slightly and sat on the edge of your dresser. “No. Probably not.”

“I’m okay. Kinda missing Gramma and the B&B, but it’s whatever.”

“What is she like? Dad barely mentioned her.”

You smiled, tucking your legs under you and picking at your shorts. “She’s great. She’s eighty-six years old and she’s so active and so smart. She runs that whole bed and breakfast practically by herself and she is so sweet. And she's… not God-fearing, she’s not afraid, but God-loving. We would have these talks about… about angels and Heaven and when I told her that I was shot once and had seen Heaven… she believed me without question and said she was excited to see it, but she wasn’t in any hurry to take her turn.” You chuckled and looked up to see your little brother smiling.

“You know, when I got there, she didn’t even remember our names? Dad hadn’t spoken to her since ‘95 so we kinda… faded from memory for her. I kept pressing her about Dad, though, and she got curious. Guess she didn’t wanna keep calling us ‘the twins and the baby’, so she went digging and found this huge stack of postcards that Dad sent her over the years from when we left Lawrence to when they stopped showing up in ‘95. He signed every one of them ‘Love, Johnny’. I can’t remember Dad ever going by ‘Johnny’.”

“Me, either.” Sam shook his head and dropped down off of the dresser to come sit next to you on the bed. “What did the postcards say? What’d he tell her about our lives, about his?”

You laughed, leaning slightly into his side. “Not  _much_! He said he gave up the family business of being a mechanic to be a traveling salesman. He swore up and down he was taking good care of us. He said it on every card.”

“Ah, he didn’t do too bad.” Sam wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“He didn’t do  _much_.”

Sam chuckled. “So, wait. Being a mechanic was the old family business?”

“Yeah. Gramma’s the one who taught Dad all about cars. It’s how she took care of them when Grandpa Henry disappeared.” You took a deep breath and wrapped your arm around his body. “She is so full of stories. Wish I could call her, tell her not to worry that I just fucking disappeared.”

“Did she know who you were?”

“No. I checked in on that Megan Maxwell card, so that’s what she called me.” You leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’m tired, Sammy. I haven’t been home a day and I’m exhausted.”

“Have you talked to Dean?” he asked, quietly.

“He said he’s sorry. He doesn’t even know what he’s sorry for.”

There was silence for a few minutes as Sam held you. “You haven’t told him about the baby, have you?”

“It’s not like he would care.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s not… I only… it was really early first trimester, Sam. I couldn’t have been more than six weeks. I… I only took the test right after Charlie’s funeral and… the Stynes…” You cleared your throat and pulled back to look at Sam. “I don’t know why it hurts so much.”

“Because you created life, y/n, and that was taken from you. It’s allowed to hurt.” He reached out and ran the back of his knuckles down your cheek. “ _You’re_ allowed to hurt.” Sam’s eyes shined with love.

Your mind snapped back to Chuck’s words, ‘ _Not just a river in Egypt_ ’. You pulled away and sniffled. You couldn’t… not after the mess Dean got you into. “Thank you, Sammy.”

Sam rubbed his hands together and stood. He looked almost like he was coming to the same shocking revelation of ‘ _Can’t_ ’ that you did. “You know, i-if you need anything, I’m here.”

“I know. Thank you,” you whispered, scooting back against your headboard as he slipped out of your room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your head was pounding from the loud rock music Lucifer was blasting from Sam’s bedroom. Sam and Dean had already tried to get him to turn down, but he wouldn’t. He was acting like a child. You slammed your fist against the door. “Lucifer! Damnit, turn down the fucking tunes!”

“Screw you!”

“You are a billion years old archangel! Stop with the angsty teen bullshit!!!”

The door swung open and Lucifer grabbed you, pulling you into Sam’s bedroom. “You don’t tell me what to do, Winchester,” he demanded, pushing you into the door.

You slapped his hand off of your shoulder and glared into Cas’ face. “You’d be real intimidating if Chuck hadn’t put up safeguards.”

“You’d be real intimidating if you weren’t an empty husk of a primate,” he snapped, his borrowed voice mocking you. You shook your head and pushed past him to turn the music down. “Look at you, thinking that if you ignore it it’ll just go away, but it won’t.”

“Lucifer, shut up.”

“You know, that kid would’ve just abandoned you like everybody else in your life. God abandoned you, Daddy abandoned you, Jesse abandoned you, and now even your twin brother’s distanced himself as much as the circumstances will allow.” Your jaw clenched tightly and your lips pulled down in a harsh sneer. “And Sammy’s abandoned you before, too, so I wouldn’t hold out hope for  _him_ to be the one to break the cycle.”

“Suck a dick, Lucifer,” you bit out, stomping toward the door. “Stop being a little bitch and talk to your dad.”

“You Winchesters are so fucking disrespectful.”

“Deal with it, asshole.” You made it back to your room before the pain in your chest blossomed into a full black hole of despair.

~~~~~~~~~

“We’re going to need somebody to send her into the trap,” Dean said, quietly.

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” you volunteered, quietly.

Sam shook his head, almost violently. “No.  _No_ , she could kill you.”

“She’s gonna kill everybody so… why not start with me?” You looked up into your little brother’s eyes and smiled. “That was a joke. Chuck and I talked about this already… Amara doesn’t know me. I’ve been gone all year. She has no reason to think I would be setting her up. If I present it as ‘spare my life, I’ll tell you where God is’, maybe she won’t eat me.”

“No! Dean, tell her she can’t-”

“Sam, we’re all doing the sacrifice play on this one. It’s us versus the universe. Some of us are gonna die on this,” your twin said, quietly.

“It has to be this way, Sam,” Chuck said, with authority.

“I’ll be okay. Or I won’t. Doesn’t really matter. Go set your trap… I’ll bait it,” you said, standing from the Map Table and walking away.

“That one… “ Lucifer’s voice carried down the hallway after you. “…is bro-ken.”

Sam huffed and followed you. “You don’t have to do this, y/n.”

You turned to him and wrapped your arms around his chest. He returned the embrace and you took a deep breath. “Go, Sammy. Go get Rowena.” You pulled back and looked up into sad hazel eyes. “Let’s end this.”

Sam took a deep breath, his chest puffing out with emotion. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you, too, little brother. Go.” You pulled back and went to your bedroom to wait.

The bunker shook when she arrived. She burned every warding sigil off of the building and a crack of thunder went through the bunker as she appeared. You could hear the breaking of porcelain in the War Room, but you stayed sitting cross-legged on your bed, just waiting. You could hear her rummaging around in Dean’s room but you continued waiting. When she appeared in your doorway, your breath caught. She was beautiful. She had long curly brunette hair and striking brown eyes.

She studied your face as you looked upon her with jealousy, a feeling of gross inadequacy filling you. “You’re y/n Winchester,” she said, certainly.

“Yeah. That’s me.”

“Dean is your twin. You shared a womb.”

You nodded. “Not that it matters much these days. If it were up to me, I’d be fixing the faucet on the second floor bathroom of the Lakeview, right now, but your brother decided I needed to be…  _here_.”

“And you don’t want to be.”

“No. I really don’t,” you said, standing. You shook your head. “I don’t want to be here, at all.”

She searched your face again, twiddling with the plunging neckline of her dress. “You want to die.” You swallowed, but didn’t answer. “You’re  _hoping_ that I’ll consume you so that you’ll no longer have to  _feel_.”

“Feeling never did me any good,” you answered, quietly. You hadn’t volunteered for this so that she would kill you or eat your soul but, faced with her accusation, you knew that she was right. You wanted to not. You weren’t sure if you wanted to not feel or not exist but either had to be better than where you were.

Her lips twitched, just slightly, and she stepped closer to you. It almost looked like she was floating when she moved, long black dress swaying around her legs. “You’re in love with Dean… and Dean is in love with me.” Everything was a certainty as she said it. There was no question. “He’s going to be a part of me.”

“Okay.”

“ _You_ will not.” She reached out and grabbed your shoulder. “You will never get to be that close to him again. I will be the only one who gets to have that intimacy with him.”

“You already stole him from me, Amara. I never expected to have that intimacy with him again. I just want it to be over, you know?” You swallowed. “So, I’ll tell you where our brothers are.”

She chuckled. “This is a trap. But I want a word with my brother, so I will go, anyway.”

You nodded. Of course she knew what was happening. “They’re at the powerplant twenty miles north.”

She reached up and touched your forehead and everything went black. “Y/n!” Sam’s voice brought you back to consciousness. Your first thought was if the plan had worked, but you could see Sam was more worried about you than the plan. “Oh, thank God,” Sam said, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Wasn’t God. Amara left me alive for spite.” You groaned as you sat up. “Did it work?”

Sam shook his head, solemnly. “She got to Chuck. He’s dying. It’s… Dean’s on his fourth beer, Rowena’s making tea… I don’t… I’m not sure… the sun is dying, too.” Sam let out an airy, humorless chuckle. “But Cas is back.”

“Did she kill Lucifer, too? Not that I’m lamenting the loss.”

“Cas said she ripped him from her, not killed.” Dean’s voice made your eyes snap to your doorway. “Can I get a moment alone with her please, Sam?”

Sam twisted to look at Dean. “Why?”

“Because the sun’s dying… and  _God_ is dying, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let the world end with my other half still fucking hating me. So, give us some fucking space, Sam…  _please_.”

Sam didn’t take his leave until you nodded at him, patting his knee as you stood. Dean closed the door behind your little brother and leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m trying to think of what I could say to make-” he started but you interrupted.

“I was pregnant.” You licked your bottom lip in between your teeth as he gasped, just barely loud enough for you to hear. “I took the test when Sam got me home after Charlie’s funeral. I was gonna tell you when you got back from Shreveport but… the Stynes got here first.”

“Oh, no.” Dean pushed off from the door to stride across the distance between you and pull you into a hug. “I just left you there, crying and covered in blood and… having a damn miscarriage.” He pressed your head hard into his chest with his giant hand on the back of your skull. You resisted the embrace. You didn’t want a brotherly apology. You wanted him to commiserate with your loss. “I was gonna be a father.”

The way he said the words, like it was the most brilliant and painful thought he could imagine, made you give in. Tears escaped your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him. “I didn’t even have time to get happy about it! I was still so worried about everything! I… and then the Stynes, I…”

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry that we… we lost that opportunity and… I’m sorry I abandoned you. I wish I could… I wish I had gotten angry when Sammy kissed you. I know that was the last straw. I know that’s why you left. You’d just lost the baby and I didn’t even fucking care how you were doing or  _who_ …” He sniffled and pulled back to look down at you. “Tell me how to make it better.”

“I don’t think there’s time to make me better, Dean. Sun’s dying. God’s dying. Remember?”

“Well, can I at least hold you?”

“What do you think you’re doing, now?”

He scoffed and let go of the embrace, moving to lie down on your bed. “Come lay down,” he instructed, patting the bed next to him. You sighed and crawled onto the bed, curling into his side and setting your head on his chest. “I know you don’t believe it, y/n… and, sister, I am struggling to find it, myself, but… I  _know_ I love you. I know I spent most of our lives trying not to love you and you can’t imagine how big a hole there is in me right now, knowing that I’m supposed to love you… that everything Amara has been making me feel, it’s all stolen from you.”

“You can’t do this, D.,” you whispered.

“Why not?”

“Because it feels like a ‘Last Night on Earth’ pitch… and I’m worth more than that.”

“Not tryin’ to get in your pants.” He smoothed down your hair and kissed the top of your head. “You’re worth so much more than anything I have or  _could_ give you.”

“Don’t. Please stop trying to sweet talk me. Just… just be with me for a few minutes, please.”

“Okay,” he whispered, fingers carding through your hair.

~~~~~~~~~~

You tried to volunteer to take the soul bomb, but Chuck said it had to be Dean. “He’s the only one who can get close enough.”

It was a teary goodbye, with both you and Cas volunteering to go with Dean. He shut you both down, saying Sam was going to need you. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Dean hugged Sam, who looked like he was barely holding himself together, then moved to you, pulling you into his arms.  “I don’t know how I can do this. I can’t deal with losing you again.”

“Just don’t shack up with Lucky Charms this time. S'all I ask,” he whispered, pulling back to look into your eyes. “I’m not letting this chance get away. Last chance.” His hands buried in your hair as he pulled you into a kiss that was far sweeter than it should’ve been considering he didn’t love you, anymore.

“Isn’t that his-” Rowena chirped.

“Don’t judge, Mother. They’re far more complicated than we give ‘em credit for.”

“Take care of Sam and Cas,” Dean whispered as he stepped back. You nodded, wiping at your eyes.

You tried. As Sam drove you and Castiel back to the bunker after the sun was restored, you held your tears in, leaning into your little brother’s shoulder. He seemed to be holding on just for your benefit, too.

“Sam, y/n, I’m so sorry,” Cas said as the three of you entered the bunker. “If you want to talk… I’m here if either of you need anything.”

“Hello, hello,” a chipper British-accented voice said, before a well-dressed woman slapped her hand against a banishing sigil on the wall and Cas disappeared.

“Cas!” You and Sam both reached for your pistols, but the woman was a quicker draw.

“Don’t. Y/n and Sam Winchester. Toni Bevell,” she greeted. “Men of Letters, London Chapterhouse. Oh, you won’t have heard of me…  _us_. We’re very traditional. Keep out of the way, keep to our studies.”

“You, um…” Sam looked around, from you to Toni Bevell, then shook his head. “What?”

“They sent me to take you in.”

“To take us in?” you asked.

“Assuming the world didn’t end, and… yay.”

“Look, lady.” Sam took a step closer to her.

“We’ve been watching you, Sam. What you’ve done, the damage you’ve caused… archangels, Leviathans, the Darkness, and now, well… the old men have decided enough’s enough. I mean, let’s face it. You’re just jumped-u hunters playing with things you don’t understand and doing more harm than good.” You scoffed, indignantly. As if you and your brothers had asked for  _any_ of that. “Now, where’s Dean?”

“Dead,” Sam answered, succinctly. Toni searched your faces and you tried not to let her see your sadness. “Listen, lady, I don’t know who the hell you are or what the hell you want-” Sam started toward her again.

“Stop.”

“Put the gun down,” Sam demanded, not listening to her.

“I said stop.”

“We all know you’re not gonna pull the trigger.”

You shrieked as the gun went off and Sam went down, a bullet tearing through the flesh of his left thigh. You dropped to the floor next to him, putting pressure on the wound. “I’m going to retrieve something to use as a tourniquet. I assume you wish Sam to survive. Don’t try anything stupid.”

“You bitch.”

“Oh, you’ll be needing a gag, too, then.” Toni’s heels clicked on the tiles as she stepped away. “Bloody hunters.”

* * *

##  **That’s the end of On a Hiding to Nothing!!! Y/n Winchester will return in a sequel series!!! Blood and Water coming soon!!!**

**—-Here’s a preview—-**

Toni looked across the cellar. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Sam. You gave me no choice. And, well, I could say it was never supposed to go this way, but you’re…  _you_. It was always going to go this way.”

“And you know me?”

“We do. We’ve been watching you and the twins for years. Ever since you almost ended the world the  _first_ time. We knew all about Lucifer, the angels falling, the Mark of Cain and it’s various… side effects.”

You looked down, a blush of embarrassment tinting your neck and cheeks. “Then where were you?” you bit out.

“Fair question. See, some of us wanted to get involved but the old men wouldn’t allow it. Thought we were overstepping our bounds. After all of this business with the Darkness, even  _they_ have to agree… things need to change. And while you might not believe this, Winchesters, we’re here to help.”

“Yeah, no. I-I can tell,” Sam said, sarcastically.

“I want to apologize for locking you up. You’re dangerous- to others and yourselves- but if you answer my questions, you both walk right out that door. I promise.”

You and Sam looked at each other, silent communication zipping across the air between you. “Pass,” Sam answered for you both.

“Sam.” Toni’s voice was almost disappointed, like she expected him to give in from a little scolding.

“You can ask me any kind of question you want. The answer’s gonna be the exact same: Screw you. You wanna get mad? You wanna get mean? I’ve been tortured by the Devil himself. So  _you_? You’re just an accent in a pantsuit. What can you do to me?”

“And what about your sister?” Toni grabbed the cap to her pen and clicked it back into place. “Dear y/n here hasn’t ever been to Hell. Her only interactions with Lucifer and the archangels has been tangential. She’s never been ‘tortured by the Devil himself’. Do you think she could handle it?”

“Screw. You,” you responded as the black-clad woman standing next to the sink twisted the faucet tap on and cold water started to rain down on you and Sam. “I can handle anything you throw at us.”

“A cold shower? That’s your play?” Sam scoffed, shaking the water from his hair. You started shivering almost immediately but you didn’t say anything, even when Sam started to shake and breathe heavily. “Screw you.”


End file.
